


Secrets and riddles

by MissNight0wl



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Harry Potter: Hogwarts Mystery (Video Game)
Genre: POV Patricia Rakepick
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-23
Updated: 2020-10-20
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:21:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26066416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissNight0wl/pseuds/MissNight0wl
Summary: The series is dedicated mainly to the relationship between Jacob Ellis and Patricia Rakepick, starting from the events happening before the action of "Hogwarts Mystery".
Comments: 8
Kudos: 11





	1. Familiarity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The very beginning of the relationship between Jacob and Patricia Rakepick, happening over the last months before Duncan’s death.

_“Why do you think he was so obsessed with the vaults?”_

_“He was always interested in secrets and riddles. I assume he thought finding the Cursed Vaults was the ultimate challenge.”_

**Autumn, 1983**

When they met for the first time, he was sitting at one of the further tables at the Leaky Cauldron, scribbling in his notebook. There was nothing unusual about him: just a boy in his late teens, working on his studies or maybe an early novel. Only if you looked closer, you’d notice that he peeked uneasily at the door whenever someone entered, his leg twitched every now and then, and the tea in front of him had gotten cold long ago.

“Mr Ellis!” she said, approaching him. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”

He rose to shake her reached hand. “I wish I could say the same, Madam…?”

“Rakepick. Patricia Rakepick.” She moved an empty chair. “May I?”

He nodded and sat down as well, closing his notebook and pulling it closer to him. He gazed at her intently.

“I’m sorry, but should I know you?” he asked tentatively.

“Probably. But I imagine you have a lot on your mind recently, so I won’t take it personally.”

He frowned. “Can I… help you then somehow or…?”

“Actually, I believe we can help each other.” She leant back comfortably. “We have one important interest in common, Mr Ellis. The Cursed Vaults.”

He stiffened hearing that and glanced about nervously.

She smirked at him. “Don’t worry. I don’t work for R.”

“With all due respect, Madam, I don’t think your word is enough for me in that matter.”

“I hope it’s not,” she replied, still smiling. “Otherwise, I’d be quite disappointed.” He was peering at her in silence, his jaw slightly clenched. “I’ll tell you what,” she said eventually, putting her crossed arms on the table. “Take some time to think if you’re interested in what I have to say. Then, we can meet again and talk.”

“And if I won’t be interested?”

“Then we’ll never see each other again. Sounds fair?” She didn’t get the answer, but she continued. “How about Friday, at eleven in the evening? The White Wyvern. I believe you’re familiar with that pub.”

“It’s in Knockturn Alley.”

“You don’t have to pretend that you don’t frequent the place. I also know that the curfew is not a problem for you. Oh, and don’t be worried about standing me up if it comes to that,” she added casually. “There’s always something to do there when the weekend begins; I won’t be wasting my time.”

His green eyes gleamed for a brief moment, and she already knew that he’d come. Without a word, she stood up and left, followed by Jacob’s stare.

On a set day, she arrived earlier, but she didn’t enter the pub right away. She waited in one of the lanes instead. Jacob appeared before time as well, looking alert but not worried. He had to figure out by now how to handle visits in this area: don’t be too confident not to provoke anyone, but don’t act like a victim either. Patricia was about to go in his direction when she realised that she’s not the only one observing him.

“Touch the boy, and it’ll be your last visit in Knockturn Alley,” she said calmly.

A Dark wizard, standing right next to the entrance of her watching spot, jumped and looked behind him. He was pondering for a while, but he quickly drifted away.

“Since when you hang out with schoolkids, Rakepick?”

It turned out that yet another man was hiding in the shadow of a nearby gateway and witnessed the whole situation.

“None of your business.”

“Y’know,” he went on, coming closer to her, looking at Jacob entering the White Wyvern. “They say interesting things about him. Now that I think about it, I suppose I shouldn’t be too surprised that he caught your attention.”

“Shut up, Alistair.”

She ignored his foolish simper and headed to the meeting spot. She briefly stopped at the bar to say hello to the bartender and then joined Jacob. The pub wasn’t crowded, which made it easier to watch everyone. Still, she kept her voice low anyway. The offer she presented to him was simple: she’d exchange her knowledge and experience – in regards to both the Cursed Vaults and magic beyond what’s taught at Hogwarts – for keeping her updated on his progress.

“So, you want to overtake R to the final vault?”

“You can say that.”

He sniggered. “I’m sorry, but how exactly you imagine that? You really think that they won’t find out, and when they do, they’ll be fine with me playing both sides?”

“Tell me, Mr Ellis. How do you feel about them getting their hands on what’s in the final vault?”

“I don’t care,” he replied, shrugging. “If you want to propose to me a fair share in your gain, it’s not gonna work. I don’t want it, so it doesn’t matter who’ll get it.”

“Is that so?” She smirked at him. “Are you really fine with a secret organisation, who threatens teenagers and has a record of fatal casualties, holding the unknown ancient power?”

He dropped his gaze and went silent for a moment before looking at her again. “What? You’re a better fit because of your morals?”

“Oh, no.” Her smile got wider as she leant slightly towards him. “I’m a better fit because I don’t want whatever’s inside either. I want to destroy the Cursed Vaults.”

“What? Why?” he asked, mild consternation on his face.

“Because nobody tried it before.”

“Seriously? That’s your reason?”

“What can I say? I like the challenge.”

He clearly didn’t believe her, but he was intrigued nonetheless. “You didn’t answer my previous question, though. Why would I provoke them to hurt my family?”

“Even if R finds out, I can assure you that they’ll go after me, not you. So, it’s none of your problems.” She didn’t get any reaction from him, so she continued. “They do want you to open the Vaults, don’t they? I’ll just help you with what they expect from you.”

She had to encourage him with some less valuable information - and it actually took her a while to get to something he hadn’t known before - but he succumbed eventually. She probably already told him more than R ever had, and knowledge was too valuable in his situation to miss out on it.

They started meeting pretty regularly, mostly in Knockturn Alley. Sometimes, they were choosing Muggle places like cafes as well to not draw too much attention. The beginning of their cooperation wasn’t easy as neither of them wanted to reveal too much, but they were learning that the more you give, the more you get. Of course, Jacob’s expertise was limited, even if only because of the lack of sources, but he was really good at deduction, and he made Patricia look at some information in the new light. He was witty and curious. However, he also often needed to be kept on track with his thought process, and he tended to be insecure.

“So, do you live somewhere nearby?” he asked one day as they walked the street leading to the Leaky Caldron.

His attempts at small talks began after about a month. At first, she assumed that he’s hoping to break the tension that way, that he’s simply being nervous. It wasn’t the case, though. Despite everything he went through so far, Jacob was still a painfully decent person. She wouldn’t say he fully trusted her; even now, she was catching his judging gaze whenever he thought she’s not watching. But seeing that Patricia didn’t pose a threat to him, he did what any decent person would do - he was acting friendly.

“No, I don’t,” she replied shortly.

“Oh…” He seemed to be disappointed that his efforts are being ignored once again, yet he went on. “You’re pretty familiar with the area, so I reckoned that maybe… But I suppose it’s _knockt_ up your alley, all things considered.” She gave him an indifferent look. “I’m joking. It’s… it’s just a pun, not a very good one, I admit. But y’know, because _not up your alley_ and _Knockturn Alley_ sounds–”

“I know what a pun is,” she interrupted blandly.

Jacob raised his eyebrows, turning his eyes ahead. “All right then,” he said under his breath, but loud enough for her to hear. “Note to self: Madam Rakepick doesn’t like puns. It remains unknown if she has a sense of humour at all.”

She smiled involuntarily at that remark. There was a time when she’d find Jacob’s behaviour almost irritating and unnecessary. However, as time was passing, his casualness became contagious. And now, after he’d noticed her reaction, a corner of his lips twitched slightly, too, before he lowered his head to hide it. It was yet another flaw of his: he enjoyed making people happy.

“I have one more thing to take care of for Gringotts,” she changed the subject. “I thought you could go with me and meet Mundungus Fletcher on that occasion.”

“Oh, I know Fletcher.”

It took her by surprise. “You do?”

“Yeah. I needed some potion ingredients from him once.”

“Huh. Well then, I suppose that’s it for today.”

“No, I can go with you,” he said hurriedly. “I mean, if you don’t mind.”

She didn’t mind. In fact, it could be interesting to see those two interacting. When they reached the White Wyvern, Fletcher was already waiting inside.

“Hello, Dung,” Rakepick greeted him. “I’d introduce you, but apparently you met before already. You didn’t mention that,” she added with a sign of discontent in her voice.

He smirked. “You didn’t ask, Patricia.”

She sighed and narrowed her eyes, taking a seat at the table. “Very well. You know why we’re here. Let’s get it over with.”

“Ah, ’ere they are,” said Fletcher, putting a linen sack in front of them. “I swear it, I ‘ad no idea they’re yers.”

She quickly checked the content. “One is missing.”

“What?”

“Stop insulting me. I don’t have time or patience for that.”

“I don’t ‘ave anythin’ else!”

“And what’s in your bag?” Jacob asked suddenly.

“What bag?”

The boy was watching him closely. “The one you’re hiding under your chair.”

Fletcher went paler and grimaced, though it probably was supposed to be an apologetic smile. He carefully reached under his chair, which was conveniently covered with an old coat. He put a small golden casket on the table and pushed it towards Rakepick.

“Will you ever learn?” she asked, irritated, hiding her belonging and standing up. Fletcher cringed at the same moment as if he was expecting to be hit, but Patricia barely looked at him. “Not this time, Dung,” she said and indicated her companion that they’re about to leave.

It took Jacob a while to realise that she’s staring at him once they were outside already.

“What?” he asked cluelessly.

“Why did you tell on Fletcher?”

He frowned in confusion. “Why wouldn’t I?”

“It wasn’t your problem. And it never hurts to have people on your side, especially here.”

“It’s just Fletcher.” He shrugged and smiled uncertainly. “Even if he’d be upset with me, it’s not a big loss.”

“Dung can be more useful than he knows, which is quite unfortunate considering everything else about him.”

“Yeah, well. But I’m working with you.” He seemed to be abashed. “I mean, the less time you spent on that, the more we can focus on the Cursed Vaults, right?”

“Right…” she said thoughtfully. “See you next time, Mr Ellis.”

It’d been a week since their last meeting, and Patricia was at Borgin and Burkes to pick up a parcel. There was some kind of commotion outside of the building when the owner came back from the storeroom.

“You’re allowing for such behaviour right in front of your store?”

“You know how it is here,” he sighed, taking off his pince-nez. “And I don’t mind it as long as they keep it outside.” He handed her a medium-sized bundle. “There it is. It’s a pleasure doing business with you, Madam Rakepick, as always.”

“And vice versa.” She smiled politely. “Have a good day, Mr Borgin.”

She wasn’t expecting that whatever was going on in the street would catch her attention, but as soon as she left, she stopped in wonder. Jacob was standing in the middle of the scene, appearing highly alarmed. His bag on the ground, his wand in his hand. There were a few gaping onlookers nearby. A couple of feet from him, one Dark wizard was lying down, presumably stunned. On his other side, another man was ready to attack when he spotted Rakepick and froze at once.

“Go on,” she encouraged him. “Find out for yourself if he can take care of himself.”

The wizard stared at her a bit longer, then he glanced at his disarmed accomplice, at Jacob, and at her once more. He started withdrawing, walking backwards, to finally turn around and run away.

“Let’s go, Mr Ellis,” said Patricia, passing Jacob and heading in the direction of the main street.

It took him a moment to gather his things and catch up to her. “Y’know, I can have different reasons to be in Knockturn Alley than you,” he said a little gaspingly.

“Then why you’re following me?”

He furrowed his brow. “Because you told me to?”

“You don’t have to do everything I tell you.”

Jacob halted abruptly and glared at her. She didn’t stop, so he left behind again, but he promptly was back by her side.

“What is it then?” she asked.

He glanced sideways on the buildings of Diagon Alley. “Can we go somewhere more private first?”

“That’s what we’re doing.”

He waited until they walked through the Leaky Cauldron and joined the crowd in the Muggle part of London. Then, he spoke in a slightly lowered voice. “I’ve met a Centaur, his name’s Torvus. We haven’t talked much yet, but I’m pretty sure his family has the arrow. It’s their heirloom.”

“That’s good news.”

“Yeah, the thing is… I thought I could get closer to him, involve him in our situation, at least with basic information. Duncan says that we should just steal the arrow, but if Torvus knew the stakes, he could just help us. I mean, it’s not like we’re gonna destroy the arrow, right? We just need to borrow it.”

“And what if he’ll refuse?” she pointed out. “Then you’ll steal it? From a friend?” He knitted his brow again, so she stopped and held his arm, making him face her. “Jacob, being kind is not always the kindest thing to do. The sooner you understand it, the easier things will be for you.” He stared at her sternly but said nothing, therefore she kept walking. “That’s all? You wanted to hear approval of your idea?”

“I didn’t want–”

“Then why you’re disappointed?”

He opened his mouth to reply, but he changed his mind and took a deep breath instead. “No, that’s not all. I’ve noticed something in my notes and wanted to show it to you, but that’s why I asked to get somewhere…” He paused, realising that they’re nearing the Underground. “Where we’re going exactly?”

“To my place,” she said casually. “If you want me to adjust my plans to yours, you have to let me know earlier. I’m not gonna wonder about London with what I have in my bag. Besides, you might need to know how to get there one day. And you were curious about it anyway, weren’t you?”

He was taken aback as they entered the station. “Yeah, but… Why the Tube? Can’t we Apparate or something?”

“Again, I want you to know _how_ to get there, not only where it is,” she clarified. “You’ve just turned seventeen, so I assume you didn’t have Apparition lessons yet. And I can’t be certain _when_ you might need to find me.”

“How do you–?”

“… know that you’re seventeen already?” she finished for him. “I usually know a lot about people I work with. I recommend it for the future.”

The train arrived soon after and luckily wasn’t too packed, so they found empty seats at the back of a truck with not many people around. Jacob, however, seemed to be distracted, and Patricia felt that he’s upset not only because of her.

“All right, what is it?”

He raised his head. “Hm?”

“It isn’t about the Vaults, is it? It’s something else. So, tell me, so you could focus on what’s important.”

He was sitting with his arms leaning on his knees, his fingers intertwined. “There was a girl…” he started hesitantly and Patricia regretted asking for a moment. Yet, he had something graver than heartbreak on his mind. “In my year, she was working with us. She didn’t come back to school after summer. They say she moved out abroad with her family…”

“But you don’t believe that.”

“Would you?”

She sighed. “What’s her name?”

“Olivia. Olivia Green,” he replied, his eyes getting brighter. “You think you can find her?”

“I can try to find out what happened to her,” she specified. “No promises, though.”

He nodded eagerly, but when he spoke again, his excitement disappeared. “Only one of us will stand at the end either way, isn't that so? Me or Duncan…”

She was considering her next words for a second. “You’re both skilled, and they’re under time pressure. If something goes wrong at the first attempt, they might find it useful to have two of you.”

He gave her a worried look. She didn’t convince him, but she believed that he needed to hear that. He nodded again, just much slower.

“Tell me,” she went on more blithely. “Do you know what you’ll do after Hogwarts yet?”

“Uhm. Not really, no. I continue most of my classes, but…” He didn’t finish the sentence and shrugged. “Why?”

“Well, if I’m helping you already anyway, I could also take your N.E.W.T.s into consideration.”

“Why?” he repeated, even more confused.

“Because it’d be a shame to waste your potential.”

He smiled weakly, lowering his head momentarily. “Did you always want to be a Curse-Breaker?”

“Not exactly.” She paused, glancing outside the window. “At first, I wanted to be a pirate.”

He raised his eyebrow. “Seriously?”

“I’m always serious,” she replied with a barely noticeable smirk.

“Right…” he chuckled. “I just wouldn’t expect that from you, Patricia.” His eyes widened suddenly, and he got tense. “Can I call you Patricia? I mean, Fletcher calls you by your first name and you don’t even like him. I mean… I’m not saying that you like _me_ , but…”

She watched in amusement his cheeks becoming rosier when she realised that they reached their destination. “It’s our station.”

That’s how he broke into her house. And then, he stole her pet.

**Winter, early 1984**

They were sitting at the table, browsing books which could help them understand better the Forest Vault, both nowadays and in the past. Hot tea was steaming in two mugs.

“Have you ever wondered why the curses affect students?” Patricia asked out of a sudden.

Jacob was pondering for a moment, staring blankly in the space. “Because it’s a punishment,” he said finally.

“Yes, but shouldn’t they target a person trying to open a vault then?”

“No, because they’re not meant to punish a thief but a lodger, let’s call it. Like… let’s say that when the vaults were created, teachers at Hogwarts were responsible for keeping them safe. If they failed, their dear students were put in danger.”

“That’s rather grim,” she noticed.

“Well, yeah, but also quite motivating. I mean, it’s not that different from what R is doing: be obedient or else we hurt your loved ones. Y’know, come to think about it… If we assume that there were people tasked with protecting the vaults, maybe there were more of them, with different roles. The arrow was in the Centaurs’ family for who knows how many generations, so perhaps they’re not the only ones. Like, maybe there’s even one family for each Vault?” He entered his state when Patricia was never entirely sure if he talked to her or thought out loud. “You need the book to open the passage in the Restricted Section, right? And yeah, I did find it in the Artefact Room, but maybe someone was responsible for it before? Just like with the arrow…” He grinned, putting his hands behind his head. “Oh, Patricia. I’m brilliant! If we could find those families, imagine what we could learn from them! Even if not all of them know much, like apparently Torvus doesn’t, there still has to be someone else than R, right?” He finally gave her a closer look, and his enthusiasm faded away. “You knew all of that already, didn’t you? You just wanted me to figure it out on my own.”

She shrugged, smirking. “Perhaps.”

“So, is it a useful realisation or not really?”

Patricia didn’t reply, but she stood up and got a book from the cabinet, which she handed to Jacob. “Study it carefully, and keep it safe.”

He browsed briefly through pages and stopped longer on one of them. “The Eight Branches? Where did you get it?”

“Doesn’t matter.”

He sniggered, glancing back at the book. “It’s incredible how much you can still learn if you only want. But will anyone help you with that? Nooo… _How can we understand the Cursed Vaults, Jacob? There are many theories, Jacob_. Damn you, Dumbledore…” He looked up at her again. “What’s so funny?”

She didn’t realise that she’s smiling, and now she instinctively tried to cover her mouth, only to rest her cheek on her hand. “No, nothing. You just… remind me of someone.”

“Let me guess: yourself,” he teased her with a daring stare. “Is it good or bad?”

She thought for a second before answering. “Both.”

He was about to say something more, but he noticed that, in the meantime, Sickleworth had managed to climb the chair and stolen something from his bag. The Niffler was already on the table, running away when Jacob caught him in the last moment. “Oi! Give it back!”

He was holding Sickleworth with one hand, the other one he put right in front of the pet. Still, the Niffler only shook his head.

“Sickleworth,” Patricia spoke sternly.

The Niffler snorted and reluctantly opened his snout, releasing the watch with a broken dial straight into its owner’s palm. Then, he fled as soon as he felt that a grasp on his body had loosened.

“How do you keep him under control?” asked Jacob with annoyance, hiding his possession back.

“He’s simply well-trained.”

“Yeah, but he’s still messing with me all the time.”

She leant back and watched him narrowly. “Sometimes, I hide shiny things around the house,” she confessed eventually. “It keeps him busy and entertained.”

“Huh…”

Jacob raised his eyebrow and looked about lazily, drumming his fingers on the table. During his next visit, when Sickleworth inevitably approached him, he took a silver coin out of his pocket.

“See this? There’s the second one hidden somewhere around. Find it and you can keep both. Deal?”

The searching lasted some time, and in the end, Sickleworth came to show his finding off, but after that, he obediently went to his corner. Two visits later, he was kipping on Jacob’s lap.

**Spring, 1984**

Even though R put pressure on Jacob and Duncan to work on two vaults separately, Patricia was pleased with their progress. Obviously, her focus was mostly on Jacob, but she was trying to advise as well whenever he expressed concerns about his friend. They also researched a lot of additional material related to the Cursed Vaults.

Yet, that particular night, she had a bad feeling. She couldn’t tell if that’s why she was still awake despite the hour, or maybe it was because of the storm raging outside. Nevertheless, she wasn’t expecting to hear persistent knocking at her door, especially that she was fairly sure it could’ve been only one person. She put on her robe and hurried downstairs.

“It’s a bit late for a visit, don’t you think, Mr Ellis?” she started, opening the door.

It was indeed Jacob standing on her porch, soaking wet from the rain. “He’s dead,” he rasped out.

“Who–”

“Duncan. Duncan’s dead.”

He was all shivering, and only now she spotted that his eyes were red. There were dirt and some blood on his T-shirt, and his jeans were ripped.

“Come on in.”

As soon as he was inside, he started pacing along the hall. Patricia locked the door, precautionarily checking if nobody’s watching them. She turned to Jacob, who seemed to not really pay attention to her.

“What happened?” she asked calmly.

“I don’t know…” He didn’t stop walking, his gaze fixed on the floor. “I went to the Forest to check on the Vault, but I couldn’t do anything because it turned out that bloody Acromantula made a nest there. So, I went back, and I knew that Duncan was supposed to work on the potion, so I went to find him… and…” His voice cracked. “And he was already dead… There had to be a fucking explosion…”

He finally stopped and crouched, pulling his hair, making a quiet whimper. Then he stood up and covered his face with his hands.

Patricia tried to remain steady. “When did it happen?”

“I don’t know. An hour ago?”

“And what did Dumbledore say?”

“I don’t know…”

Her eyes widened. “What do you mean you don’t know?”

“I didn’t know what to do, so I left…”

“You run away?!” She raised her voice more than intended, which immediately affected Jacob.

“I panicked!” he yelled back.

“And it took you an hour to get here?”

“I DON’T KNOW!”

His eyes got teary as he gave her a desperate look, his lips quivering. He started pacing again.

“Jacob, you have to calm down,” she said more softly this time. “Jacob, you hear me?”

He didn’t even react, so she approached him and stopped him by holding his arm and swinging him around. She cupped his face to force him to face her.

“Look at me,” she said firmly. “I need you to focus, Jacob. We’re gonna figure everything out, okay? You’re not alone. But now, you have to go back.”

“I can’t…”

Jacob always appeared to be older than he really was. He often acted light-hearted, yet he looked, talked, and thought more mature than most of his peers. It was easy to forget that he’s still just a student, especially if one knew how much he carried on his shoulders. But at that moment, Patricia saw him as he truly was: a terrified boy whose world had just collapsed. Perhaps it was that realisation that made her feel genuinely sorry for him. Maybe it was the fact that he had nowhere to go except for her house which made her sympathise with him even more. Or she simply felt guilty. Either way, she relied on her instinct when she did what Jacob himself would probably do on her place: she hugged him. He clutched her robe as if it could save him, but at the same time, it made him lose control. His whole body shook with sobs.

“It’s gonna be fine,” she almost whispered.

“How can it be fine if my best friend is dead because of me?”

“It’s not your fault, Jacob.”

The rain was still whipping on the windows, and it thundered in the distance. She absentmindedly stroked his hair, ignoring how cold he was. 

How could she tell him then that it’s how the things had to be?


	2. Changes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jacob knows it’s a matter of time when he’ll get expelled. He tries to do as much as possible before it happens – all of that while dealing with his friend’s death.

_„Do not blame yourself, Jacob. Duncan Ashe chose his path, and all paths end in the same place… All except ours. Despite what she told you, we could only accept one member regardless of what happened with the vaults. You were always the favourite, but this tragedy, along with Miss Green’s fate, negates the need for further discussion. Continue your search, trust your instincts, and rid your mind of rats and Centaurs. Remember, there are no friends on the path to enlightenment and immortality… There is only us. -R”_

**May 1984**

They broke the curse on the Forest Vault two days after Duncan’s death. Jacob preferred to be done with it before facing the consequences from the faculty and authorities, and Patricia didn’t want to leave him alone with that. They also decided to keep the arrow. Returning it now wouldn’t change much in Jacob’s relationship with Torvus anyway, and they couldn’t tell for certain it wouldn’t be needed again. After that, she hadn’t heard from him for a couple of days until she finally received the message briefly explaining his situation, and asking for a meeting. On a set date, she was waiting on the perimeter of the Forbidden Forest when she spotted Jacob’s silhouette approaching.

“What’s the news?” she asked when he got close enough.

Even in the moonlight, she could tell that he was exhausted, most likely hadn’t slept in days.

“They’re probably gonna expel me,” he rasped out and cleared his throat. “Dumbledore says that it’s the Ministry pressing, that they can’t keep sweeping things under the carpet…” He hesitated before continuing. “D’you think that Sullivan has anything to do with it?”

“Possibly.”

“But wouldn’t it be more convenient for them to have me at Hogwarts?”

“Not necessarily,” she replied thoughtfully. “If R is really behind it, it’s psychological. They might be trying to discredit you. Where an expelled student would go if not to them?”

Jacob looked at her intently, but then he lowered his head and sighed. “Well, at least I have a lead for the portrait. I suppose we didn’t need Alistair after all. His contact is the girl I already know.”

“Alistair was useless? I’m shocked.” He gave her a faint smile. “I told you he always tries to look more important than he could ever be.”

“I know, I know…” He glanced in the direction of the castle. “It’s Friday tomorrow, so we could deal with that right away. What you think?” She nodded, so he went on. “Should I tell Snape or…?”

“No, Severus doesn’t want to be involved more than necessary.”

“Do we…” He was considering his next words for a moment. “Do we really need him?”

“No, Jacob. I just enjoy his company,” she replied blandly. “Believe me, if I could, I’d choose somebody else.”

“Then why him? Is it because of Legilimency? Because if so, I’m pretty sure I could do it on my own if only–”

“I know you could,” she cut in. “But it’s not that.”

“So what is it?”

“It never hurts to have backup.”

He wasn’t satisfied with her answer, but he didn’t push further. Instead, he went silent for a while, crossing his arm. “Have you learnt anything about Olivia?” he asked finally in hushed tones.

“No. I tried, but I couldn’t confirm or deny that she moved out as you said.” It seemed like his face went paler in the darkness. “Jacob, I can go to Knockturn Alley alone. Just tell me where to find that girl,” she added more softly.

He pinched the bridge of his nose. “No… I have to do something.” He took a deep breath. “Y’know, they told me that she got ill, like her mother, so they moved somewhere to Asia where they supposedly can cure it. They let her go because she’s basically dead already, whether she’d leave or not, so they wouldn’t have much use of her anyway. According to them, at least.”

“They let her go for the treatment they don’t believe can be successful?”

“Yeah, I know…” he said with a grimace and paused. “Well, see you tomorrow then? Ten o’clock?”

The next day, they met at the entrance to Knockturn Alley, as usual. Jacob still looked tired, but he appeared to be in better spirits.

“Let me do the talking, alright?” he said as they’re approaching the White Wyvern. She frowned questioningly. “I told you I know her.”

Patricia raised her eyebrow, but she got mildly intrigued. “If you say so.”

The girl in her early twenties stood outside the pub, talking to two older witches who withdrew as soon as they realised they had additional company. There was something quite familiar about her, but Patricia couldn’t put her finger on it. She didn’t give much thought to it, though, as she encountered many people here over the years.

“Violet? Hi,” Jacob started blithely, going a bit ahead. “We’re told that you might know something about the portrait we’re after.”

“Yeah, Alistair warned me that you might come.”

She beamed at him, but then she spotted Rakepick and got uneasy. Jacob caught sight of it immediately and gazed at both of them.

“That’s okay, Vi,” he turned to the girl. “We work on it together. Whatever you want to tell me, you can tell us both.”

He encouraged her with a smile. However, seeing that she still hesitated, he glanced at Patricia furtively. She glared back at him, but then she uncrossed her arms reluctantly, taking a more casual posture. Violet was still avoiding eye contact with her, but she began talking – which made Patricia remember when she’d met the girl before. Just months ago, she was asking a couple of Knockturn Alley denizens about Jacob. Nevertheless, she didn’t find out much, and Violet was among those claiming to not know him at all.

“There’s that wizard… I was his apprentice for a while to practice my potioneering,” the girl spoke, focusing on Jacob. “My aunt came up with that idea, they went to school together or something. But anyway, it didn’t last long.”

“How so?”

“He was… weird. There’s something bad about him, and it’s not our type of being dodgy, I’m telling you.”

“Did he hurt you?” asked Jacob alarmed.

“Oh, no! But I didn’t like being around him anyway.”

“What’s his name?” Patricia interrupted.

Violet got a little startled as if she forgot that there’s the third person with them. Still, she didn’t seem to be as uncomfortable anymore. “Harold Collins,” she replied crisply.

“Ah, yes. He’s kind of eccentric.”

Jacob’s eyes widened. “You know him?”

“Not exactly, but I’ve heard of him. He had some successes with Potions inventions or even in the field of Alchemy. His paranoia usually stops him from achieving anything more, though.”

“Paranoia about what?”

“People stealing his ideas, mostly.”

“Hm… So, you think that he has the portrait we’re searching for?” he turned back to Violet.

“I’m not sure, to be frank. He didn’t talk to me much. But sometimes, he mumbled to himself about his family deserving better, and I reckon he mentioned a cursed portrait then, once or twice.”

Jacob looked hopefully at Patricia. “Think it could be it?”

“It’s worth checking.”

“Can you give us an address, Vi?”

“Sure. You’ve got something to write it down?”

He burrowed in his bag a bit and gave the girl a piece of paper with a pencil. Having the location and information that the wizard is the only resident there, he thanked Violet and walked away with Patricia.

“D’you know where it is?” he asked, showing her a note.

She nodded and reached her arm to him, so she could lead him during their Apparition. He grabbed her confidently, and in the next moment, they were in the empty street in front of an old big house.

Jacob glanced about the area. “What’s the plan then?”

“We knock, we stun him, we find the portrait, and we get out.” He looked at her intently and bit his lip. “What now?”

“I was thinking about something less violent…” She sighed and rolled her eyes, so he hurried to continue. “I mean, we don’t know if he won’t want to just give us the portrait. And while you’ll be talking to him, I can try to figure out how to get inside if he refuses. Y’know, just a bit more sneaky…”

It sounded like an unnecessary precaution to her, but on the other hand, they didn’t know what to expect at the house – especially considering its resident’s personality. “Fine,” she agreed on reflection, making him brighten up a little.

They walked up the porch, and Jacob rang the bell. It took a while before they heard the footsteps inside, and the door was opened, revealing the middle-aged balding man. At the same time, Patricia noticed slight distortion in the air, most likely meaning some kind of a protective barrier placed at the threshold.

“What?” barked the wizard.

“Mr Collins,” she started calmly. “My name’s Patricia Rakepick and this is Jacob Ellis. We’d like to ask you about the portrait we believe is in your possession. Would you mind–”

“Yeah, right,” he interrupted gruffly. “Why you’re here, really?”

She forced a smile. “Like I was just saying–“

“Yeah. Listen, lady, I don’t have time for that.” Patricia was about to reply, but he continued talking, glaring at Jacob who tried to peek in. “Are you a Hogwarts student?”

Jacob instinctively pulled his Ravenclaw tie, still hanging around his neck. He didn’t always bother to take it off entirely, especially recently. “Yes, sir,” he said doubtfully.

“Is that what Dumbledore teaches you these days? Sticking your noses into other people’s business?” Collins sneered. “I’m already one House-Elf short because of him. I don’t wanna have anything to do with the old man or his school. You have to look for the apprenticeship somewhere else, kid.”

And just like that, he shut the door.

“Well, it didn’t go well…” said Jacob sheepishly, rubbing his neck. “But it seemed like there’s some barrier on the door, right? Or was it just me?”

“No, I saw it too. The entrance is magically protected, so we wouldn’t get in either way. Have you picked up anything else that could help?”

He shook his head. “There’s nothing in the hall, and I didn’t have time to learn anything through Legilimency. He did mention a House-Elf though, didn’t he?” Patricia looked at him enquiringly. “If Dumbledore took that House-Elf, they should be at Hogwarts. They might know something. Not Dumbledore, I mean. The House-Elf.”

“I suppose.”

“I’ll try to get to the Kitchens even today. I’ll let you know as soon as I know anything.”

He got excited and barely waited for her nod of approval, but she stopped him before he Apparated. “Jacob?”

“Yeah?”

“How long do you know Violet?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know, about a year?” He gave her a closer look and smiled rather mischievously. “I know you asked her about me.”

“Is that so?” She raised her eyebrow. “Yet, you claimed you didn’t know me when we met.”

“Because I didn’t. I learnt about it after the fact.”

“So, she covered for you without you even knowing.”

“Wasn’t it you who told me it’s good to have people on your side, especially in Knockturn Alley?” he asked teasingly. “Let’s say I figure it out a tad earlier on my own.”

Jacob hadn’t wasted any time at Hogwarts, and just two days later, they met nearby Collin’s house again.

“You called him eccentric, didn’t you?” he greeted her. “I’d say it’s a euphemism for his case. The bloke’s pretty messed up.”

“So you’ve found the House-Elf?” asked Patricia.

“Yeah… Poor old Pitts. I’d never guess it’s him, he basically runs the Kitchens.” He shook his head pityingly. “He says that Collins does experiments on his House-Elves. Spells, potions, doesn’t matter… And you can imagine he doesn’t treat them any better than most wizards do.”

“Does he know how we can get to the house?”

“There’s a passage from a shed in the garden, we should get there without problems. Collins probably doesn’t even know about it, so it’s not secured. We’ll get out in the cooking area, but Pitts says we don’t have to be worried about the House-Elves. And most of the rooms are unused since he lives alone, so it’ll also make things easier.”

“Any suggestions about where to search?”

“The second floor. The room at the end of the corridor, next to the suit of armour.”

The shed was old and decayed, so Jacob easily praised the door. They had to go down to the basement to enter the cold, dark passage. Patricia conjured the sphere of light which followed them, leaving their wands ready to use. Luckily, they weren’t disturbed by anyone or anything, and soon afterwards, they emerged in the house. Four House-Elves were staring at them curiously as Jacob helped Patricia get out of the hole, but none of them seemed to be particularly alarmed.

“It’s okay, we don’t want to hurt you,” Jacob explained hastily. “Or your master. We’re just looking for something. We know about that entrance from Pitts.”

They were watching the unexpected guests in silence a bit longer, but then, they went back to their work. Only one of them approached Jacob shyly.

“Is Pitts all right, sir?” he asked in a high-pitched voice.

“Yeah, he’s fine…”

The House-Elf seemed to be relived, yet he said nothing more, and he swiftly disappeared between shelves filled with dishes. Patricia and Jacob carefully left the room, making sure beforehand that the corridor was empty. Fortunately, their footsteps were dulled by a thick carpet. They quickly found the stairs and moved forward. When they finally reached their destination, Patricia cast _Cave inimicum_ on the door closed behind them.

The room was quite big and very cluttered. The furniture and various objects were pilled on each other in an unorganised way. Most things looked old and untouched in ages. The air felt dense from dust.

“There, a gold frame,” muttered Jacob, pointing one of the stacks. “Could be it.”

He raised his wand and waved it, but the portrait didn’t even budge.

“As I thought,” said Patricia in a low voice. “It has to be immune to the Summoning Charm.”

“We could simply knock the pile down.”

She shook her head, her gaze fixed about nine feet above the floor. “I secured the room, but I’d rather not to risk with such a paranoiac. The less noise the better.”

“Alright, then jump on.”

She looked at Jacob who bent slightly and intertwined his palms. “What are you doing?” she asked in confusion.

“I’m giving you a leg up. This desk doesn’t look particularly stable, and you’re lighter. I’ll insure you when you try to reach the portrait.”

She hesitated for a moment, but let Jacob boost her up. The desk swayed moderately before she balanced her position. She had to reach just a little higher, and she should be able to outthrust what they needed…

The door opened suddenly. “What the hell?!” yelled Collins.

It took him a split second to judge the situation and attack them. Thankfully, Jacob deflected his spell in time and went to the offensive. The desk wobbled dangerously under Patricia again when she got startled, but she didn’t care anymore. She stretched as much as she could and yanked the portrait, causing the whole pile to fell over. Right before one leg of the desk collapsed, she leapt off, ready to help Jacob. He’d just sent a spell at Collins, who blocked it and was about to counterattack when he spotted what Patricia held. He lowered his wand and cackled.

“You really came for that piece of shit?”

Jacob exchanged looks with Patricia. “Do you know what it is?” he asked.

“I know it’s cursed. That’s what crazy uncle Johnny used to say, anyway.” Collins said with a sneer. “Weird things were happening in my family over the centuries. People getting killed in mysterious circumstances, disappearing without a word… Some said it’s because of the portrait, some said it’s bad luck.” They all were watching each other intently. “You can take it if you really want it so much.”

Patricia tightened a grasp on her wand. “Just like that?”

“Just like that. I don’t need it. I’d rather leave my mark in history with something useful. And perhaps you’ll take that bad luck away from me,” he added, baring his crooked teeth. “Now, get the fuck out of my house. Don’t worry, I’ll show you the way out. Don’t try to play any tricks, and I won’t cause problems either.”

He turned around and walked ahead, mumbling under his breath. They followed shortly after him, a bit uncertain how to react to such turn of the events. They were already on the ground floor when they realised that they’re being observed by one of the House-Elves – the same one who’d asked about Pitts earlier. Patricia noticed that Jacob hesitated, his gaze concentrated on the creature.

“Let’s go, Jacob,” she whispered, grabbing him by his elbow. “We have what we came for.”

“I reckon it’s obvious that I don’t want to see you here ever again,” said the house owner, opening the front door wide.

“Of course, Mr Collins,” replied Patricia, leading Jacob outside. At the same time, she inconspicuously pointed her wand at the man. In the next second, his face went completely blank.

“Did you Obliviate him?” asked Jacob, frowning his brow, when they were already in the street.

“Yes, I did. I don’t need a risk that he’ll tell someone about our visit.” He stared at her in silence. “He forgot only us; he knows he gave the portrait away.”

“Maybe you just shouldn’t have used our real names last time…”

“He’s not blind.”

“Fair enough,” he admitted pensively. “So, maybe we should use disguises?”

“That’s too much unnecessary work if you ask me, at least in that case,” she pointed out. “Besides, if not for your tie, we wouldn’t learn about the House-Elf, would we?”

“Yeah, I guess so,” he chuckled. “What now, though?”

“Now, I have to study the portrait to figure out when the Portkey will be active. And you… You’re going to take a break.”

He halted abruptly and gaped at her. “What? Why?”

“Jacob, have you stopped at least for a minute to grieve after–”

“ _This is_ how I grieve,” he cut in sharply. “I can’t stop now. You can’t just shunt me.”

“You’re not grieving,” she said rebukingly, knitting her brows. “You’re suppressing. And you can’t do it forever. Eventually, you _are_ going to break.”

“You’re talking from experience?”

She wasn’t expecting such a strong reaction out of him. He was staring at her sternly, his jaw clenched.

“Jacob–”

“I’m getting expelled tomorrow,” he gasped out abruptly.

“What? Already?”

“Yeah, well. They had to speed up the procedure, apparently.” He lowered his head. When he looked at her again, his eyes were glistening. “The next curse is probably already active, and I won’t even be at Hogwarts. I can’t even take my whole research back home. How am I supposed to–” He paused and swallowed hard. “I need you, Patricia, to direct me what I can do. Because I can’t stop.”

“All right, let me think…” She took a deep breath and rubbed her forehead. “Did they give you a specific time?” He shook his head. “So, you have time at least until breakfast… Take the most important things from your room and bring it to Aberforth. Do it as early as possible, at dawn even. He’s gonna be grumpy, but he’ll help you.”

“To the Hog’s Head Inn? Why there?”

“I care about that research, too; I wouldn’t advise you wrong. Now, there’s not much to do before the Buried Vault, really, but… Keep studying Merpeople. You can do that? It shouldn’t draw too much attention.”

Her confident tone calmed him down a little. “Anything in particular I should focus on?”

“There’s one key we still have to find, but I’ll explain it to you later. For now, focus on the big picture.”

“Patricia…”

“Later,” she stopped him firmly. “I will tell you everything, but now, you have enough to deal with. I still insist you think about yourself, too. What to tell your parents, for example… I’ll contact you soon.”

He gave her a desperate look, but he nodded reluctantly. At that moment, neither of them knew that someone else had hurried their plans about Jacob up as well – and they’d have to take it into account.

* * *

It’d been over a week after Jacob’s expulsion. Patricia was standing in front of the row of houses, watching closely one of them. It was late already, but two lights on the first floor were still on. The woman scanned the area and sent from her wand a silver shape in the direction of one room. After a while, the lamp inside went off. Meanwhile, a little girl showed up in the other window. She was looking up at the sky with a dreamy smile for a minute, and then, she disappeared again. It had to be his sister…

Shortly after the second room had gone dark, the front door opened and Jacob came outside with his bag on his shoulder. He was tense, and as soon as he spotted Patricia, he approached her quickly.

“What’s going on?” he spat in a low voice.

“Do you have everything you need?”

“I do. But I don’t understand why–”

She yanked his arm without warning, moving in front of him to deflect a spell speeding in their direction.

“What the hell?!”

Jacob looked behind him, his eyes widened, reaching his wand in panic. Patricia managed to stun the attacker at that time, but the second one arrived from the other side. Jacob stopped him, but then, Patricia grabbed his hand and pulled him behind the corner of the fence across the street, where they both ducked.

“What the fuck was that, Rakepick?!” he hissed at her.

He looked at the house just in time to notice another wizard heading to the front door, so he immediately cast a spell at him. Almost at the same time, a red beam of light appeared out of nowhere, and Patricia pulled him back down in the last moment, standing up herself to send binding ropes at the assaulter. Then, she got back to Jacob.

“You said that R would go after you, not me,” he said through greeted teeth. “But I’m pretty sure they’re attacking me, too. How do you explain that?!”

“It’s not R…”

“What? Then who are they?!”

She glanced sideways uneasily. “The Cabal.”

“Who the fuck is the Cabal?”

“There’s no time.” She reached her arm to him. “You have to go with me.”

Jacob looked at her in disbelief. “No way! They’re trying to get to the house! I’m not leaving my family!”

“They’re safe, I’ve secured the building.” She felt that her voice is starting to shake. “I’ll explain everything, just not here. Please.”

His expression softened a little with a sudden realisation. “You’re scared… Why’re you scared?”

“Jacob, please.”

He hesitated, peering anxiously at the other side of the street once more. Eventually though, he grabbed her forearm, locking his gaze on her eyes.

When they Apparated on a field road, Patricia immediately started to walk without a word. Jacob followed two steps behind her.

“What was that about, Rakepick?”

“Not now.”

“You said you’ll explain!”

“I will. We just have to talk to someone first.”

He halted her by pulling her shoulder. She brushed his hand off; however, she stopped and came closer to him.

“If things get out of control, Jacob…” she said in a muffled voice. “Run.”

He stared at her with wide eyes. “What?”

“Do you have somewhere safe to go? Not home. And not the Hog’s Head.”

“Um… Yeah, I guess I could go–”

“Don’t tell me,” she interrupted him. “It’s better I don’t know.”

Jacob went paler, but he swallowed hard and said nothing more. They continued their walk up a low hill on the top of which grew a tree. Under the tree, a fair-haired man in the light robes was waiting.

“Call your assassins off, Seamus,” Rakepick turned to him sternly.

“Hello, Patricia,” he replied with a gentle smile.

“Call them off.”

His grin got wider when he deliberately got a gold coin out of his pocket and presented it briefly. Then, he tossed it in the air, but it disappeared before falling.

“I understand you want to ask me about something,” he said with mild curiosity.

“Leave the boy alone.”

Seamus chuckled softly. “And why would I do this instead of killing him right here and now?”

With a corner of her eye, Patricia noticed that Jacob trembled indistinctly, but he stayed by her side, remaining quiet.

“Let us continue our search for the Vaults,” she replied calmly. “The closer we get to the final one, the easier it’ll be to bring R down. It’s a matter of time when they make a mistake. And time is all I ask for.”

“I won’t have to worry about R if he’s dead.”

“So you’d just let them be?”

Seamus sighed and crossed his arms. “You really expect me to put so much more effort for… what? Satisfaction?”

“I do. Because there are easy solutions and the best ones. You don’t know if your plan won’t backfire.” She didn’t take her eyes off him for a second. “Besides, I take full responsibility for everything.”

He laughed again and gazed at Jacob. “You have no idea what’s going on, don’t you, boy? Jacob, isn’t it?”

“Yes, it is…” he replied unsurely.

“I didn’t quite have time for explanations,” Patricia broke in. “You know, because of the assassins.”

Seamus shook his head and rubbed his eyes. “All right. Show us what you got. We won’t hurt you, Jacob. For now, at least.”

“What about my family?” Jacob asked unexpectedly.

“It’s only about your sister,” Seamus clarified. “And we won’t hurt her either.”

“What about R?” He sounded more confident, and Patricia noticed a difference in his posture, too.

“What about them?”

“They already threaten people I care about. They won’t hesitate if they learn I work against them.”

Seamus let out another small cackle. “Are you actually requesting protection for your sister _from R_?” He stared at Jacob, raising his eyebrows, but the boy didn’t even flinch. “Is it your boldness, Patricia, rubbing off on him, or is it his own?”

She shrugged slightly with a subtle smirk, so Jacob couldn’t notice it.

“What a night…” groaned Seamus. “Fine, I’ll see what I can do,” he said eventually, resigned. “She just saved your life, you know,” he turned to Jacob more softly. “It’s not a debt I’d like to have, to be honest.” Patricia glared at him, but he didn’t seem to be bothered. “Well, I believe that’s all. Goodnight to you both.”

He nodded, turned around, and Disapparated. When he was gone, Patricia inhaled slowly and tilted her head back, trying to release tension from her shoulders.

“I suppose I should thank you,” said Jacob blandly, watching her suspiciously – almost like when they first met.

“You don’t owe me anything.”

“Care to explain anything that just happened?” he asked more firmly. “Who the hell is the Cabal?”

She paused before answering, putting her hands on the hips. “Another group interested in the Cursed Vaults.”

“Awfully many people are interested in something believed to be just a legend.”

“Yeah, what can I tell you…”

He smiled nervously. “So, what? I’m their competition and they want to get rid of me?”

“Something like that.”

A dozen thoughts were running through her mind, so she was a bit absent-minded, but Jacob suddenly pulled her back by grabbing her shoulder.

“Then what they want from my sister?” he growled.

“You’re in their way, Jacob,” she raised her voice, their gazes locked on each other. “They wanted to make it clear for you.”

He let her off and rubbed his temples.

“You work for them then?”

“No, I don’t.”

“It’s not how it looked like!”

“I…,” she hung back, trying to stay calm. “You could say that I work with them, not for them.”

“Then why they’re not trying to stop you? Or are they? Is it because you had a deal with them all that time? To learn about R through me?” She could sense how he felt more and more helpless with each passing moment. She closed her eyes trying to find the right words. “Talk to me, Rakepick! What happened that they want to kill me now?! Have they learnt enough?!”

“You’re making too much progress,” she replied quietly.

“Thanks to you…”

He turned away from her and cussed under his breath.

“Nothing changed, Jacob. Look at me,” she said as she stepped in front of him. “R still wants you to continue your research. The Cabal wants the same because it’s gonna dull R’s vigilance. And I still want to help you.”

“And I have nothing to say in all of that,” he added in a strangled voice, forcing a smile.

“You’d be dead by now otherwise…”

“I don’t owe you anything, huh?” He snorted bitterly. “Can I go back home already at least?” he asked sarcastically, but Patricia dropped her gaze. “Oh, what now?!”

“Sullivan will probably look for you there.”

“So what?”

“First of all, you’d have to explain it to your parents, again. And secondly… R also wants you to join them, don’t they? And you can’t do this.”

“You just told me to continue research for them. What’s the difference if I join them or not?”

“If you join them, you’ll lose any control. They’ll make you do whatever they want. And we definitely won’t be able to work together anymore.”

“What, you’re talking about the Imperius Curse?”

“No,” she said pensively. “They don’t use it on their members.”

Jacob pulled his hair and shut his eyes for a moment. “All right, but… It’s not like Sullivan is gonna arrest me and force me to join them or something… right?”

“Honestly, I wouldn’t put it past him at this point.”

He laughed grimly, and a sign of panic showed on his face. “So what? I’m supposed to live in hiding from now on?”

“You said you have somewhere safe to go.”

“Yeah, but I can’t stay there forever.”

She took a deep breath. “You could stay with me. If you want,” she added hurriedly. “R won’t find you there, and it should be more convenient than sneaking out from home and hiding things from your family.”

He covered his face with his hand, pondering for a while. “Yeah… Sounds reasonable…” he murmured.

“I’ll let you know when everything’s ready.”

“Wait, I can’t go with you now?”

“Give me a day or two.” He looked overwhelmed and confused, his mind not quite there. “We’ll talk then, alright?”

He nodded slowly and tightened grasp on the belt of his bag. In the next moment, he was gone, leaving a cracking sound behind him. Patricia was left alone in the quiet warm night. She really wanted to stay there a bit longer, bothered only by the sound of the gentle wind, but she was aware she still had a lot of work to do. She glanced one last time at the meadow and Disapparated as well.


	3. Falling down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After learning new information, Jacob decides to continue his partnership with Rakepick.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: A suicide attempt.

_„Rakepick is the only reason I’m still alive, but I can’t help feeling like she keeps me alive for her own reasons… I just wish I understood what those reasons are… I don’t understand why we need a third person to break the curse on the buried vault. Especially him. I don’t understand why the Cabal is after me, and went after my little sister… She’ll never know that Rakepick saved her too. I mostly don’t understand why Rakepick is afraid of the Cabal. If I didn’t know better, I’d say she isn’t afraid of anything. Everything would be simpler if she couldn’t keep me from knowing exactly what’s on her mind. It’s the one thing she and Snape have in common.”_

**May 1984**

“The bathroom is right next to your room. You know where the study is. If you want anything from the kitchen, go ahead. If you need anything else, just tell me. I still have something to finish at Gringotts, but then I have a few holiday days to use, so we could work on the Vaults.”

Patricia was showing Jacob around the house, even though he was already familiar with a big part of it. He was nodding silently every now and then, but when they went back downstairs, something suddenly came to his mind.

“Oh, right, I almost forgot!”

He ran to the room where he stored his things and was back in a moment, handing Patricia a small pouch.

“What’s that?” she asked.

“Money,” he replied as his cheeks blushed a little. “It’s mostly Muggle money, but that’s all I’ve got. I mean… I don’t know how long I’ll stay here, but I can’t stay for free, can I?”

She blinked in disbelief. “I offered you my place because it’s quite probable that otherwise you’d be forced to join the organised crime group, and you’re thinking about… rent?”

“Yeah, I guess,” he replied slowly.

“Keep it. And don’t bring it up again.”

He hesitated before she left him to go to the kitchen, but he quickly followed. He sat at the table while she started preparing tea.

“Are you gonna tell me the truth about the Cabal now?” Jacob spoke eventually. She didn’t answer. “You said we’ll talk.”

“What do you want to know?” she replied casually.

“Everything? Like, why did they want to kill my sister?”

“I told you, you’re their competition, so they--”

“Stop it, Rakepick,” he interrupted her coldly. “If it was about sending the message or whatever, they wouldn’t care if it’s my parents, my sister, or my cat. Seamus clearly said it’s _just_ about my sister. Why?”

He was peering at her as she moved to take a seat across him. Sickleworth brushed her foot while running to climb up Jacob’s leg.

“Remember our conversation about families connected to the Vaults?” she finally asked softly.

“Yeah. What it’s got to do with anything?”

She took a deep breath. “Your family is one of them, Jacob. Just like Torvus is connected to the Forest Vault, and Collins to the Buried Vault, you’re connected to the final vault.”

He laughed bitterly. “That’s a really lame lie, y’know.”

“It’s not a lie. A long time ago, R and the Cabal were one group. The group responsible for protecting the Cursed Vaults. Unfortunately, they fall apart at one point. Some members wanted to use their position to get the treasure for themselves, the others wanted to be faithful to their mission. You know about the first ones. The Cabal, on the other hand, decided that the easiest way to keep the Vaults untouchable is to get rid of people necessary to open them. Remember when Collins told us about his relatives dying in mysteries circumstances? It’s not a coincidence.”

“I would know about that,” he protested firmly. “My family doesn’t even have any heirloom or anything like this. Besides, Sullivan never asked me about such a thing, and it should be R’s priority, don’t you think?”

“That’s because the final vault doesn’t need an object. It needs a person.”

He leant back in the chair heavily, thinking in silence for a while. “What about the rest of my family?” he asked more quietly. “What about my mum? Why only me and Helena?”

“I suppose the curse binding you with the Vaults is not active in each generation,” she explained calmly. “Moreover, you didn’t live in Britain for a long time, did you?”

Jacob slowly shook his head. “No… I mean, yes… I mean…” He put his hands behind his head, running fingers through his hair. “It doesn’t make any sense…”

“Then why would they target you from all students?”

“Because I was searching for that stupid Vaults on my own!” he raised his voice. “I thought it’s a cool legend worth checking out! Why target someone else if I was already in?”

“You only made it easier for them to find you. And they’d find you anyway.”

He looked her in the eyes, a sign of panic painting in his expression. “If that’s true… Why would they put me through all of that? I mean, it _is_ dangerous. What if I died instead of Duncan? I imagine that I should be alive to be useful. Or not?”

Patricia observed him speechlessly, wondering how much to tell him. She felt like he’s getting more and more tense. “It’s because the final vault is different,” she said hesitantly. “It has more… requirements…”

“What requirements?”

“Like, only a person who was in all the previous vaults can enter it. And--” She bit her tongue.

“And what?” He looked at her expectantly. When she kept quiet, he rubbed his eyes in frustration. “Just… tell me already.”

“And only a person who experienced great loss.”

He frowned and shook his head again. “What does it even mean?”

“R believes it means death.”

And then, it hit him. She could see the blood draining from his face. When he spoke, his voice was weak.

“Is that why Duncan died? They’d planned it from the beginning?” She lowered her head when Jacob gasped with sudden understanding. “So he _did_ die because of me. So I could open the fucking vault…” His eyes glistened when he covered his mouth.

“No, Jacob. You can’t look at it this way.”

“Yeah, I know,” he cut in. “Duncan Ashe chose his path. That’s what they told me; did I mention that?” He moved Sickleworth from his lap to a chair. “Is that what you think, too?”

She watched him as he stood up and headed out of the kitchen. “You know it’s not what I meant.”

“I need some time,” he murmured before exiting. Shortly after that, she heard footsteps on the stairs and shutting door.

He didn’t go out for the rest of the day, but since it was late afternoon already when he’d arrived, she assumed that he simply went to bed. In the morning, she started getting worried, though she saw him going to the bathroom when she was about to leave for work. Admittedly, he didn’t react to her call, but she decided to give him space. Only after she returned and discovered that none of the food was touched, she went upstairs to knock at his door.

“Jacob, have you eaten today?” No answer. “Jacob, are you hungry? I’m making dinner, you want some?”

It was completely quiet in the room. Patricia realised that Sickleworth followed her, and now he was scratching at the door. He did it sometimes when he wanted to get somewhere unavailable, but this time, he was alarmingly persistent.

“No… Don’t tell me…”

She grabbed the doorknob and pushed, but the door didn’t open. She drew her wand, hoping that he didn’t put much thought into using a more advanced spell which she’d have to figure out. Luckily, the lock broke under _Alohamora_. Jacob was lying on the floor, his wrists cut open.

“For fuck’s sake…” she cursed under her breath, immediately kneeling next to him to stop bleeding.

Sickleworth ran straight to his face, but she shooed him away. It seemed that she’d arrived just in time. Jacob hadn’t lost a lot of blood, and she was able to dress his wounds. He even woke up for a moment when she was tending to one of his forearms.

“What you’re doing?” he rasped out quietly with a grimace.

“Saving your life?”

“Why…?”

“Because I don’t need a dead teenager at my house.” She sounded calm since she knew that she got the situation under control, but his absent eyes brought another wave of concern. “What the hell were you thinking…?”

He passed out before she looked at him again. In the meantime, Sickleworth somehow managed to drag along the medical kit.

“Good boy,” she whispered with a weak smile.

The pet kept circling uneasily around her while she moved Jacob on the bed. However, even though she stabilised him, his state was getting only worse in the next hours. He had a fever, and he stayed unconscious. After two days without any improvement, she had to accept that she might need some help, and so she did the second-best thing she could think of: she called Severus.

She didn’t have to wait long for him. When he showed up, she briefly explained what happened and what she’d done so far, leading him to Jacob’s room. Severus started the examination by carefully leading his wand along the boy’s body. Next, he took the potion out of his bag.

“Wiggenweld Potion? I told you I tried it already,” Patricia reminded him a bit impatiently. “I imagine you need something more advance here.”

Severus scowled at her. “I’ll call you if I need you,” he said disdainfully.

She opened her mouth to reply, but she swallowed her words. It probably wasn’t the best moment to argue, so she left the room and went downstairs. It’d been a while before Snape joined her.

“Will he be all right?” she asked as soon as he appeared in the entrance.

“He should’ve been fine already. You did surprisingly well for someone with such poor experience at Healing magic like you.”

“Then why he’s not getting better? Is it because of the Vaults?”

“Possibly.”

“Can you help him?”

Severus approached the table and put his bag on the chair, but he didn’t take a seat himself. “Do you expect me to diagnose and cure the ancient curse during one home visit?”

“Is it beyond your abilities?” she spat waspishly. Snape glared at her coldly without a word. “If you start working on it now, it should be easier to help him in the Vault.”

“I’m not joining you in the Vault,” he said blandly.

“What?”

“It will kill him eventually, Rakepick, and I’m not going to take a part in it.”

“I asked you for help to increase his chances for survival, Severus,” she replied firmly, yet she was still steady.

“You know he’ll die anyway,” he barely raised his voice for a second. “Just because you buy him a few weeks or months, it doesn’t mean you’re not leading him to his death. Is it really worth all that effort to get what you want?”

“You think that’s what it’s about, Severus? That I’m worried I won’t be able to use him?! Is it really so unbelievable to think that I simply want him to live?” She stood up abruptly and made a few steps. Then, she turned back to him with her hands on her hips and laughed shortly. “You think I’d have to quit without you, don’t you?”

His face remained emotionless. “You can keep telling yourself that you’re helping him if that makes you feel better about yourself.”

“Fine. And you can think you’re the superior one here. But remember that quitting makes you just as responsible for whatever happens to him.”

His respond was interrupted by the sound of footsteps in the hall. Shortly after that, Jacob opened the door. He had to wake up not long ago, and he only pulled a grey hoodie over his pyjamas. He was very pale and appeared tired, yet fully aware when he slowly glanced at both of them.

“Professor,” he rasped out, nodding slightly.

“Ellis.”

“Professor Snape was just leaving,” Patricia broke in, keeping her eye on Severus.

The Potions Master didn’t respond, but he reached to his bag and took out two vials. “It should help with a fever,” he said calmly, not looking at any of them.

“Thank you,” Jacob said promptly, though his voice was still faint.

“Don’t thank me.”

Severus gave him an indifferent glance and headed to the exit, Patricia following right behind him. Neither of them spoke, but right in front of the main entrance, Snape halted.

“Don’t worry, I won’t call you again,” Patricia said contemptuously, leaning on the open door.

It seemed like he wanted to add something, but apparently, he changed his mind and left. When she returned to the living room, Jacob was studying short instructions placed on the vials.

“Thank you,” he repeated, seeing that she entered. She only sighed and sat next to him. “Y’know, it’s not that I’m not grateful for his help or something… And I know I asked about it already, but… Do we really need him?”

“Not anymore.”

He frowned, evidently expecting a different answer. “Um, why?”

“Because things change.” She leant forward, reaching a hand to him. “Show me.” Jacob hesitated, but then, he reluctantly pulled up his sleeves, revealing his bandaged wrists. Patricia unwound both of them gently. The cuts were basically healed and almost invisible. “Did you think that you’d keep the final vault safe by killing yourself? Or did you really want to die?”

He shrugged and took his hands back. “I don’t know. Maybe I wanted to see if I want to live,” he said quietly, avoiding the eye contact.

“And what’s the verdict?” He replied with the silence. “Look, I’m probably not the best person for this conversation, but… It’s not the solution for anything.” Jacob raised his head. “If you die, both R and the Cabal will go after your sister. And… and I know you’ve been through a lot, and it might be too much, but you can’t just give up. Not like that. Your family doesn’t know where you are or what happened, and they don’t deserve that.”

“Well, that’s kinda part of the problem, isn’t it? I can’t just… go back.”

“You can leave whenever you want.”

“And then what? I mean, you’re the one who suggested that I should stay with you. And honestly, that’s probably the right decision, but it still means that I don’t have a choice.” He chuckled cynically. “I have only two options, and I lose in both of them.”

“Or you can help me destroy the Cursed Vaults,” she pointed out. “You know it’s the only way to end this madness. As long as the Vaults exists, you’re in danger. Quite possibly, the whole wizarding world is. R spread out too much over centuries, so if you can’t stop them, why not make sure their goal is gone forever?”

Jacob watched her steadily without a word for a while, tilting his head. He wasn’t using Legilimency, but it still felt almost penetrating. Yet, his expression was calm.

“You’re serious about it,” he said eventually. “Destroying the Cursed Vaults.”

“Of course I am. You really thought all that time that I’m using you to get the treasure for myself?”

“I mean…” he paused, lowering his head. “Sort of…”

Patricia smirked and leant back in her chair. „Jacob, I’m one of the world’s greatest Curse-Breakers. I was the youngest person to become the Head Curse-Breaker at Gringotts in a century. I have fame, money, skills, knowledge, and I’m quite attractive. What else could the final vault offer me?”

“Some modesty?” He was looking at her with a serious face, but a corner of his mouth curved a little when she cracked a grin. “R believes that the treasure can give you immortality.”

“And you should know that if something isn’t deadly, I don’t find it particularly interesting. Immortal life has to be really boring,” she added more pensively. “You know, to be fair, I do need to use you for the final vault. But I want the same as you. I don’t want the Cabal to kill you, and I don’t want R to get the treasure.”

“How can I know you’re not telling this to manipulate me?”

She rested the cheek on her palm. “You can’t.”

“Have you ever consider being less suspicious when you want someone to trust you?” She gave him a wry smile. “Alright, let’s say I believe you. What does it change exactly? I mean…” He paused and bit his lips. “If we destroy the Vaults,” he started with hesitance. “… the treasure will just… become available, won’t it? Or you think that you can destroy it, too? Like, no offence, but if whoever built that whole system couldn’t simply destroy it to not have a problem at all, I don’t think we have much chance.”

He looked at her desperately, his eyes gleaming, much more alive than when he first came downstairs. He still didn’t catch the balance of things, and Patricia felt like he can fall down at any moment, but he was asking to be pulled in.

“Come with me,” she commanded him, standing up and leaving the room.

Jacob was right behind her on the way upstairs and to the study. When they walked in, though, he stood on the side, watching as she approached one of the bookcases.

“What I’m about to show you…” she spoke softly. “You’re the first person to see it, Jacob.”

He straightened up and nodded. “Understood.”

After giving him one more glance, she pulled the book in a red leather cover, causing the whole piece of furniture to move and reveal the dark entrance.

Jacob was staring at her owlishly with wonder. “You have a secret room behind a bookshelf? In an already secured house?”

“My parents built it during the war. Just in case,” she explained casually.

“That’s… actually pretty wicked, I’m not gonna lie.”

She smiled and stepped in, looking back to make sure that he follows. She lit the candle the closest to the door, which put into motion the whole chain of light sources. Soon, everything became clearly visible in the warm glow.

“Damn…” Jacob murmured, slowly looking around. “And I was worried about leaving my research at Hogwarts…”

The whole room was filled with papers, notes, drawings, and pictures. Some of it was organised on a big board, some in the boxes. Everything had its specific place which Patricia knew by heart.

“Just because your research isn’t as vast, it doesn’t mean it’s not important. It all counts here.”

“You studied materials the Vaults are built of?” he asked, absorbed with one part of the board. “Like, _physical_ materials? I didn’t even think of that… Should’ve I thought of that?”

“No, you shouldn’t have,” she said assuringly. “You were doing just fine. The thing is that getting through the Cursed Vaults is not very challenging on its own. No offence.”

Jacob appeared quite distracted by all information around him, but her statement drew his attention. “None taken,” he replied more intrigued.

“It’s still impressive, considering that you started at such a young age,” she continued. “It doesn’t change the fact that most obstacles can be overcome by anyone, as long as they’re talented enough. The hardest part is meeting the additional requirements like having the right person to open the final vault, for instance. Other than that, you can get to the treasure without really understanding the Vaults. But if you want to destroy them, you need to know everything. That’s why I’m doing all of this. Each piece gives me another lead which can be crucial.”

Jacob was watching her attentively, and when she paused, his eyes swept the room once more. “Like destroying the Death Star…” he muttered thoughtfully.

Patricia furrowed her brow, not certain if she heard him correctly. “What?”

“Hm? Oh, nothing!” He cleared his throat. “I’m just saying that it makes sense. So, does it mean you figured out what the treasure is?”

“Not exactly. I have some theories, but nothing certain. I just know that entering the final vault will be necessary.”

“Do you think that R knows what it is?”

“I doubt it, not for sure.”

He nodded, pondering on his words. “That’s probably a pointless question, but…have you tried to sell that idea to Seamus? I mean, the Cabal wants to keep the treasure safe, and that would kind of help achieve that goal.”

“That’s not what their mission is about. And it’s always the risk not everyone is willing to take.”

“And why you’re doing this?”

She blinked, a little surprised. “I told you when we met. I like the challenge.”

“Yeah, I still don’t believe that one.”

“And I don’t care.”

“It’s personal, isn’t it?"

She only raised her eyebrow. He sighed, crossing his arms and accepting that he wouldn’t get the answer.

“Right… Right, so let me get it straight,” he started, pinching a bridge of his nose. “R wants the treasure, and they want _me_ to get it. The Cabal wants to keep the treasure safe, so they want to kill me unless I’ll help them get to R. And you want me to help you destroy the Vaults, but we have to do it before R finds out that I’m not actually helping them, _and_ before the Cabal finds out about our plan. We also can’t really let the Cabal to take care of R earlier because they’ll probably want to kill me as soon as they’re done with that. Oh, and R will probably want to get rid of you at some point.”

“That’s a minor detail,” Patricia cut in indifferently.

“Yeah, sure. Anyway, did I miss something?”

“We don’t have much time. It’ll all play out when we reach the final vault.”

He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, glancing up the ceiling. “I… I need to process it.”

Patricia nodded silently. He hesitated for a moment, but then he exited the room and the study. She followed shortly after him, wondering if she made the right decision to tell him everything. The door to the bedroom he was occupying was closed, but before she went downstairs, she’d noticed that it cracked open a couple of inches. She took it as a good sign.

Nevertheless, Jacob didn’t get out of his room for hours. Eventually, he left the house entirely without saying anything, but by the time Patricia heard the front door and ran outside, he was already gone. She went to bed with a thought that he decided to return home – and she couldn’t really blame him for that.

Yet, the next morning, Jacob was back in her kitchen.

“Morning,” she greeted him a bit unsurely, slowing down when she saw him.

“Hey…”

It didn’t appear that he’s about to explain himself, so she simply started brewing coffee for herself. She broke the silence only when Jacob was reaching for sugar, and she noticed two letters on the inside of his forearm: H E.

“A tattoo?” He pulled down his sleeves hurriedly. “Why you’re hiding it?”

“Because you probably think it’s stupid,” he replied under his breath, his eyes fixed on the counter.

“And why do you care what I think?” He didn’t answer, but the tips of his ears became red. “I don’t think it’s stupid. Do whatever you want as long as it helps you stay focused."

“Right… Speaking of focus…” He finally looked up at her. “I was wondering if you could teach me the Patronus Charm.”

“So it means you stay?”

“Yeah, obviously,” he said, knitting his brow. “I mean, I still can stay, right? You haven’t changed your mind?”

“I haven’t,” she reassured him and took a sip of her drink. “Why the Patronus Charm, though?”

“It’s the most powerful protective charm, isn’t it? Could be useful.”

“Yes, but--” she started slowly, but he interrupted her.

“I know that you need a happy memory, and the right state of mind, and all of that. But that’s why I want to learn it… Maybe if I figure out what helps me with a Patronus, I’ll know what to hold onto, you know?” He peeked at her hopefully, but then he turned his head away again, running his hand through his hair. “Never mind, it sounded better in my head. It’s stupid, isn’t it?”

“Again, why you care what I think?”

“I don’t,” he protested more firmly. “I mean, I’m not asking what you think. I’m asking about your professional opinion.”

She watched him intently: he was leaning on the kitchen island, his arms crossed. “I can’t predict how you’re gonna feel, but… It could work. We can try it anyway.” He brightened up a little. “But it has to wait for when I’m back from work.”

“Yeah, of course.” She still kept an eye on him. He had to notice concern on her face because he forced a smile. “You can leave me alone.”

“I need three more days at Gringotts.”

“That’s all right. Really.”

Not having much choice, she got ready and left the house. When she returned, Jacob insisted that she should rest, and he can wait, so she showed him one more time how to enter the research room to keep him busy. They started their lesson by the evening. While Jacob quickly absorbed the theory, he only managed to conjure weak silver light - and it still took him a few attempts. He dropped his wand, which rolled on the table, and put his hands behind his head with a sigh.

“It’s not bad, Jacob.”

“It’s terrible.”

“You have to stop getting discouraged whenever you’re not immediately great at something.”

“I’m not--” He stopped mid-sentence, seeing her stern glare.

“It’s a difficult spell,” she went on. “And you’re…”

“Depressed?” he suggested, raising his eyebrow.

“Let’s take a break for today, how about that?”

He agreed reluctantly, although later on the way to her bedroom, she saw through the gap in his door that he’s still practising.

When she returned the next day, she was welcomed by the sound of music: a familiar song by _The Beatles_ she hadn’t heard in forever. Jacob was lying with a book on the couch in the living room where the melody was coming from.

“Oh hi,” he gasped, a little startled, when he saw her. “I… I found some records in the cabinet,” he explained, pointing at the record player in the corner. “I hope you don’t mind…”

“No, that’s fine.”

“Oh, good.” He hesitated before putting his book up. “There’s a chapter on workmanship among Merpeople in the book I’m reading. Thought it could have a clue about the key you’ve mentioned…”

“Good.”

He waited a moment to see if she’d say anything else. Then, he returned to reading, but still feeling her presence, he glanced at her questioningly. It made Patricia realise that she kept staring at him, so she only shook her head pensively and turned around on her heel. Later that afternoon, Jacob summarised his findings and spent some time in the research room.

When she was back home on the third day, she not only heard the music again – there was also the very pleasant scent of dinner in the air.

“What you’re doing?” she asked, entering the kitchen.

Jacob was so focused that he barely looked at her. “Cooking?”

“You’re cooking chicken?”

“It’s turkey. I’ve noticed that you usually make chicken, so I assume that you prefer white meat, but I wanted to try something different. Not that your cooking is not good, of course…” His cheeks got flushed, though Patricia wasn’t sure if that’s because what he’d said or from the steam coming out of the pots.

“Where did you get groceries from?” she persisted, seeing vegetables she definitely hadn’t bought.

“From a supermarket. In Cardiff…” he added more quietly. “Don’t worry, I know I should be laying low. I was careful. Though I didn’t know when you’d be back exactly, so you have to wait a tad longer.”

She didn’t move for a while. “Should I set the table?”

“No, I’ll bring everything,” he replied casually.

Not being quite sure how to react, she had no choice but to listen to him. She hung her cloak in the hall and quickly went to change. On her way downstairs, she grabbed Sickleworth who was trying to enter Jacob’s room.

“You can’t snoop around when he’s not there,” she scolded him, patting his head affectionately.

Back in the kitchen, she filled the Niffler’s bowl and took a seat at the table herself.

“It’s not the first time someone made dinner for you, is it?” Jacob asked when he finally put the plate in front of her.

“No, it’s not,” she replied tentatively.

“Because you look confused.”

“Because I _am_ confused. Jacob, you--”

“I’m fine,” he interrupted her. “I’ll be fine. I… I want to live,” he added quietly looking at her timidly. “I didn’t answer when you asked about my verdict. So, here it is. I still blame myself for Duncan, but… I know I can’t do anything about it. And I want to do something. Whatever I can.”

He lowered his head and started pecking at his stuffed turkey with rice. It seemed like his declaration took a lot out of him, and Patricia didn’t really feel competent enough to push it further. Nevertheless, she was relieved, and she smiled involuntarily when she joined the meal.

“So, I’ve been thinking…” Jacob piped up. “You said that we can’t enter the final vault without the key, but you know already how to get there, right? So, couldn’t we try to get there earlier? You know, for exploration.”

Patricia shook her head. “We can’t. We have to go with the key or not at all. You have only one attempt at each vault. Otherwise, the cycle resets.”

“What do you mean?”

She inhaled deeply, trying to find the best way to explain it. “Let’s think about the Vaults as the chain securing the treasure. Each vault is one link. At the very beginning, there’s a lock on the first link. When you break the lock though, it doesn’t open yet, but it moves to the next link. However, if you try and fail at breaking it, you’ll trigger the security system, and the lock goes back to the first link.”

“I’m not sure I understand… What do you mean by breaking the lock? Like, defeating the Ice Knight and all of that?”

“Exactly.”

He moved on his chair a bit nervously. “So… _hypothetically_ … if I entered the Icy Corridor last year, but just the Corridor… I didn’t screw up anything?”

“No, you didn’t,” she reassured him, slightly amused. “When the lock moves to the next vault, the previous one basically becomes an empty shell. If you entered the inner chamber, you’d even see the columns are still open.”

“Oh, good!” he gasped out. “I was already worried that all of our work is pointless because we should start from the beginning.”

She smirked, seeing how sudden tension left his shoulders. “Oh, R would know if you screwed up, and they’d tell you that for sure.”

“How they’d know? I mean, I suspect that they’re spying on me, but I like to think that I got better at avoiding that…”

“It doesn’t really matter here. They can tell when the cycle starts and when it’s stopped.”

“Yeah, but how?” he insisted.

She shrugged. “I assume they have some kind of instrument.”

“How do you know all of that?”

“I don’t _know_ everything, I told you that. But you’ve seen my research, and it also happens that I’m very good at guessing.” She took another bite of her meal. “And that’s a very good dinner.”

He smiled teasingly. “Did you just set the roles in our partnership?”

“I don’t know. Maybe. We’ll see after your training.”

“What training?” he asked, taken aback.

“You didn’t finish your education, so I have to check it myself if I can depend on you in action. We’re starting tomorrow.”


End file.
